


Temptation

by Stella_STARgazer



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Dinner, Eventual Smut, F/F, Theatre
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-12-25 14:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12037725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stella_STARgazer/pseuds/Stella_STARgazer
Summary: A chance encounter leads to a tempting invitation.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found this story saved on my Chromebook that I started a month ago. I decided to dust it off and give it a go. Not sure I'm totally in love with this whole chapter, but....here it is....

The theatre looks breathtaking at night. Swathed in it’s soft amber glow, the “Second Empire” architecture looks like a decadent palace; a sensual contrast to the angular steel and glass urban jungle around it. She’s wanted to come here since high school, to see this very show, in fact, but her mother had always refused.

 

_ Disappointing daughters don’t deserve special things.  _

 

Inhaling deeply, she pushes the thought from her mind; the ghost of Rita Bennett will not spoil this evening. She runs a hand down the front of her new strapless teal chiffon dress to smooth any wrinkles and smiles brightly as she heads across the street, her hair bouncing in soft ringlets behind her. 

 

At the entrance, a man dressed in solid black with a garnet vest opens the door and greets her with a bow. She blushes as she thanks him and steps inside; she’s not used to such formality or attention, no matter how rehearsed it may be. 

 

The foyer is bustling with people, so she seeks solace in a small nook near the base of the grand staircase, next to the gigantic and breathtaking Christmas tree. It looks like the stairway to heaven, with its white marble steps and scrolled and gilded bannister, all decked out with tinsel and holly for the season. She plays the quiet observer, watching the myriad of sharply dressed people move about the room, many of whom with some sort of libation in hand. She contemplates a drink, but decides against it, thinking better of adding alcohol to the dizzying excitement she’s already feeling. 

 

While surveying the room, her eyes drift skyward and her mouth drops open in awe as she sees the color glazed fresco on the ceiling. Fat and rosy cheeked cherubs adorn a fair-skinned, voluptuous maiden with a wreath of flowers, while another pair pours her a glass of wine; the de rigueur of such artistic platforms. Suddenly she registers the sound of her name. She turns toward the direction of the voice and her eyes grow wide when she sees the source. 

 

Governor Ferguson stands before her looking absolutely stunning and instantly Vera feels insignificant by comparison. But more unsettlingly, she finds herself inexplicably attracted to the usually stern and rather severe older woman.  

 

She’s dressed in a navy blue fitted suit with cigarette pants that stop just above her ankles. The sleeves of her jacket are perfectly cuffed to her elbows displaying a rich satin lining underneath. Satin lapels hang open to show a creamy white chiffon top that wraps low across her chest, revealing a tasteful bit of cleavage. Her dark hair cascades in soft waves around her face, her lips colored a deep shade of burgundy. 

 

“Vera….what a surprise to see you here. I didn’t realize you were a patron of the arts.” Mouth curved in a smirk, though there’s a hint of approval beneath her slightly patronizing tone. Her coffee eyes gaze down from Olympian heights, as she gives her small deputy a once over. She’s impressed, but she’d never show it.

 

“It’s...it’s my first time, actually.” She fiddles with the shawl draped over her purse, feeling silly and self conscious. 

 

“Oh, well, Phantom is an excellent first choice.” Joan permits another measured smile. 

 

“I’ve wanted to see it for ages, but mum….I...just haven’t had the chance, until now.” Vera chastises herself for the slip. For sounding so pathetic. Joan’s eyes twinkle with amusement. 

 

“Well, you’ll have to tell me what you think.” She’ll consider it another test of the worthiness of her deputy. The lights flicker, indicating 10 minutes to curtain, and they both look up to acknowledge the signal. 

 

“I guess I should make my way to my seat. It was nice to see you Governor and enjoy the show.” Vera replies shyly with a smile.

 

“Likewise Vera...and might I say, that’s a much more appealing use of teal.” Dark eyes sparkle with mischief and a coy smile curls the edges of her sensually shaded mouth, provoking a rosy blush across Vera’s cheeks.  _ It’s so easy to conjure, yet so very rewarding. _

 

“Thank you.” She replies sheepishly, despite the swell of pride she feels in her chest at such a generous and personal compliment from Joan.  

 

They part ways with a cordial goodbye and Vera makes her way up the stairs to her seat in the highest mezzanine. She’d debated getting a better seat, but the nagging voice of her mother had prevented her from indulging in such extravagance...as did her mediocre deputy’s salary.

 

The lights come up, the show begins and Vera is simply spellbound from the beginning. As the stage is engulfed by mist during the titular song, she stares captivated by the magic before her, mouthing the words she’d committed to memory all those years ago. The curtain falls at intermission and high on the spectacle and passion of the show, she decides to go to the bar for a drink.

 

She slips into the moderately crowded room and makes her way to the rich mahogany counter. A handsome bartender approaches and she orders a chardonnay, paying him in cash with a smile. She turns to leave and move into the atrium and nearly runs right into Joan, who’s standing only inches behind her. 

 

“We meet again, like ships in the night.” Her smooth husky voice sends chills across Vera’s skin.

 

“Oh, governor...I didn’t see you, sorry.” Vera blurts as she catches herself just before the chardonnay tumbles.

 

“Vera, no need for the formality outside of work. Please, call me Joan.” Her lips curve into another coy smile and she steps around Vera to the bar, casting a sly glance to the smaller woman over her shoulder. Vera waits as Joan orders a drink and then follows her out to the atrium to find a quieter space to converse. 

 

“So...are you enjoying yourself so far?” Joan questions curiously as she takes a sip of her shiraz from the small plastic cup. It’s a bit low-brow, she thinks, but affords assurance that it’s not been touched by some stranger’s unsanitary mouth.

 

“Oh, absolutely. The sets are gorgeous and the singing is beautiful. And the mist when they went to the Phantom’s lair….” Vera gushes, in spite of herself, trailing off with a sigh without the right words to express her delight. Joan chuckles in amusement at Vera’s simplicity, finding it quite alluring. 

 

“Where is your seat?” Joan asks, though she suspects she knows the answer.

 

“Oh...umm...in the grand circle, but it’s still a pretty good view.” Vera replies a bit self-consciously. 

 

Joan ponders for a moment and decides the intrigue is worth the risk. 

 

“Why don’t you come sit with me for the second act?” She suggests coolly. Vera looks at her curiously.

 

“But I don’t have a ticket for that seat.” 

 

“I have an extra.” Joan replies with a knowing smile.

 

“Oh. Were you expecting a guest?” She’s not sure why, but the thought disappoints her. 

 

“No, I always buy an extra if the box isn’t available; I value my personal space.” She replies simply, as if it’s a normal thing to do. Vera stifles a giggle, realizing how predictable the action is, knowing her OCD tendencies.

 

“Are you sure that’s ok? I don’t want to intrude.” The idea is so tempting, but she doesn’t want to sound overly eager. 

 

“Vera, I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t.”

 

The lights dim, signalling the end of intermission and with a giddy smile Vera looks back to Joan. 

 

“Alright then, I’d love to.” With an approving nod, Joan extends a hand for Vera to lead the way.

 

Vera abides and takes the lead as Joan’s elegant hand comes to rest on the small of her back, gently guiding her as they make their way through the crowd back to Joan’s seat. The touch is unexpected, yet not unwelcome as it generates a dizzying ballet of butterflies in her stomach. The salacious glint in Joan’s eye says she’s enjoying it too. 

 

Joan ushers her into the stalls, about 15 rows back from the stage, gesturing to the two end seats on the row. Vera steps in first, sits on the edge of the seat then looks up: the view of the stage is spectacular. Joan sits in the end seat, adjusting her jacket then leaning back to get comfortable. With a shift of her hips, she crosses her right leg over the left, turning slightly toward Vera, the tip of her shoe grazing across Vera’s calf. Vera pulls her leg back slightly as she feels the touch, looking over to offer a shy apology.

 

“You’re fine.” Joan responds with a small smile, as her left arm comes to lay on the chair back behind Vera’s shoulders. Filled with nervous excitement, Vera shifts back in her seat, folding her hands across her lap as the lights go dim. 

 

The stage is a whirl of color and sound as the masquerade commences. Vera watches in sheer rapture at the action on the stage and occasionally Joan glances over, watching the smaller woman with growing curiosity.  She’s entranced by the way Vera loses herself in her emotional response to the show. Every feeling is written so clearly across her pretty face as she watches, and Joan finds it captivating. How must it feel to be so emotionally free? 

 

On stage, behind a swirl of petticoats and dancers, the Phantom emerges as the Red Death. Joan’s nostrils flare in excitement as she watches him command the stage; it’s her favorite scene of the play. She casts a sly glance to Vera and is surprised to see the same look of appreciation reflected in her face. She shifts slightly in her seat as a sudden surge of arousal courses through her, removing her arm from the chair back to settle it atop her thigh. 

 

As the final scene commences, Vera is transfixed. She’s shifted forward in her seat again, hand clutched tightly to her chest as she watches the drama unfold. When Christine bestows the Phantom with a kiss, telling him he is not alone, a single tear treks down her chiseled cheek. Catching the glint of light reflecting off it in the darkness, Joan watches as it trickles down, then drops off Vera’s jaw. She finds the image oddly moving. 

 

After the show, they make their way out into the night, moving off along the sidewalk away from the throngs of cars and people. Though it’s the height of summer, the evening air is cool and Vera pulls her shawl around her shoulders. The pattern reminds Joan of a Chinese fan, and she smiles at the pleasing image. 

 

“Where did you park? I will walk you to your car. It’s a bit late for a woman such as yourself to be walking alone.” Joan offers, part in practicality and partly because she’s quite enjoying Vera’s company. 

 

“What about you then? You’d be a woman walking alone too?” Vera counters, a slight chuckle escaping her delicate lips.

 

“Vera darling, do I look like an easy target?” Joan replies coolly with a smirk, making Vera blush and shake her head to the negative. 

 

“Well, I didn’t actually drive. I took an Uber.”

 

“Ahh, then I will drive you home.” Before Vera can offer a rebuttal, Joan heads back toward the valet, stopping briefly to beckon Vera to follow. Ever the obedient lamb, she scurries to Joan’s side. 

 

In the car they talk of Vera’s interpretation of the play. Joan listens, observes, curious to hear Vera’s insight, surprised to discover it’s more analytical than she expected, which pleases her immensely. Thirty minutes later, they arrive at Vera’s house and Joan gets out, escorting her to the door. 

 

“Thank you for the ride home, and for allowing me to join you for the second act. I had a very nice evening...thanks to you.” Vera offers a genuine smile as she looks up to the Amazonian woman before her. The porch light casts a halo around Joan’s dark mane and she’s captivated, once again by Joan’s softer beauty. 

 

“It was no problem at all, and I’m glad you enjoyed the show. It’s one of my favorites, despite its marginal classification as an opera.” 

 

There’s a slightly awkward silence between them, as neither knows how to comfortably end the evening. 

 

“Joan...do you have any plans for Christmas?” Vera asks suddenly, surprising them both. 

 

“No. I’ve no family left, so I’m used to spending it alone.” 

 

“Would you like to come over for dinner? It’s my first Christmas without mum, and though I’m not really sad about that, it will be kind of strange spending it alone.” The insecurity in her voice is quite endearing and Joan finds herself feeling sympathy for her deputy. Despite the gnawing nerves at the back of her mind, she decides to accept the offer. 

 

“I’d be delighted.” She replies with a small smile, accompanied by a rush of excitement that makes her skin tingle. 

 

“Right, umm, good. Well, how about 7 then?” Vera replies, a bit taken aback by Joan’s acceptance. 

 

“Sounds perfect. Well, I will leave you then. Sleep well and thank you for the lovely evening.” With a gentle hand on Vera’s bicep, she leans in and plants a small kiss on the corner of Vera’s mouth, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. She backs away, flashing a seductive smile and wordlessly turns and walks away toward her car. 

 

Vera is left dumbfounded on the step, watching the seductive sway of Joan’s curvaceous hips as she walks away, a scarlet blush creeping with a tingle up her chest.  


	2. Chapter 2

A ring of the doorbell signals the Governor’s arrival. Vera jumps in response, chastising herself for being so nervous as she wipes her hands on the dishtowel and goes to answer the door. Maybe this would be a terrible mistake, inviting her boss to a Christmas dinner for two, but she’s determined to make it a pleasant evening. 

 

She opens the door with a cordial smile that grows wider as she sees Joan standing on the step, dressed in form-fitting black cropped pants and a flowing deep crimson blouse. The color is an unexpected departure from the usual inky tones, but it perfectly compliments Joan’s creamy complexion. Vera catches herself staring and blushes slightly as she offers an apology and registers the knowing smirk on Joan’s face. With a shy smile, she extends an arm, inviting Joan inside. 

 

Observant to a fault, coal eyes survey the humble living room, noting all the minute changes since Vera became the sole inhabitant of the house. It’s lighter, cleaner: simple, but modestly elegant; a more refined and mature aesthetic than Joan had expected from her deputy. The only sign of the season is a potted Christmas bush, now in full bloom, that sits in the center of the coffee table. She permits a small smile of approval as she follows Vera into the kitchen.

 

“Would you care for some wine? I have chardonnay or shiraz. Oh, and champagne, but I thought we might prefer that with dessert.” 

 

“A glass of shiraz would be nice, thank you.” Watchful eyes track the smaller woman as she moves about the kitchen, retrieving the bottle and then two glasses from a cupboard. 

 

Small chiseled biceps ripple and flex as Vera pulls the cork from the bottle, the sleeveless cut of her lavender cotton dress putting them on full display. She obviously puts effort into keeping them so toned. The view doesn’t go unnoticed, or unappreciated, by Joan as she observes from her lofty vantage. 

 

Vera pours two fingers of the claret liquid, pushing the glass toward her guest, offering a taste for further approval. Again Joan is surprised by the snippet of cultured etiquette. With a swirl and deep inhale, she takes an indulgent sip and nods in approbation; apparently dear Vera enjoys a full body. Vera serves her a full pour then fills a glass of her own. 

 

“The table’s set, I just need to pull everything from the fridge. I’ve got a charcuterie board, boiled prawns and a fresh salad. I hope that’s not too simple. Usually mum and I just ate egg salad sandwiches because she hated prawns.” The apprehension in her voice and the timid bow of her head offer an unassuming allure, but hint at the unpleasant memories of an overbearing mother.

 

“That sounds perfect.” Joan offers as Vera begins to pull the meal from the fridge. 

 

“If you could carry the salad, I can get the rest.” She offers with a smile as she turns back to grab the tray of prawns. Her dress, already a snug fit, pulls tight across her ass as she bends over. Joan licks her bottom lip licentiously. 

 

At the table, they fill their plates in silence. Joan is impressed with the selection and presentation; Vera had obviously taken great effort to please. With a fluid motion she removes the cloth napkin from the table and draws it into her lap, then takes another sip of her shiraz before delving into the meal.

 

“I got the impression that your mother was a rather…strong woman?” She asks casually, taking the opportunity to indulge her curiosity. She’d seen it that night she had brought Vera dinner; knew that type of monster all too well, but she’s curious to hear Vera’s branding of the beast.

 

Vera laughs, but it’s forced, too zealous in pitch; again hinting at the twisted dynamic of mother and daughter.  

 

“My mother was a....rather bitter and cruel woman.” She knows she’s a terrible liar, so she permits a sliver of truth, hoping it’s enough to end the conversation. Sadness and insecurity turn her blue eyes grey and misty for only a fleeting moment, but Joan sees all. 

 

The holy grail of knowledge is revealed: the little mouse and tigress are not so different after all. Joan feels the stirrings of empathy in her chest, an emotion she buried so many years ago. It unsettles her, but the feeling remains. 

 

“And your father, where is he?” The inquisition continues, though sympathy-that foreign emotion,  deviates the line of questioning. 

 

“He left when I was only a few months old.” She inhales sharply, exhaling with an awkward laugh and wave of her hand. 

 

“Anyway, that’s enough of my sad family history. What about yours? How was your mum?” Vera asks innocently, accustomed to claiming the title of most dysfunctional family. 

 

How little does she know. 

 

Joan remains silent, battling with how much she’s willing to share. Her growing trust in Vera finally allows her the freedom to disclose a small glimpse into her tumultuous past.

 

“From what I remember, she was very kind and gentle, but she died when I was 10 years old.” 

 

“Oh Joan, I am sorry. That must have been difficult.” Without thinking, Vera reaches out her hand and places it over the top of Joan’s. Joan looks up, eyes wide, surprised and a bit unsettled by Vera’s kindness. The gesture strikes a chord within her and she permits a more intimate truth.

 

“It...it wasn’t easy, but I think perhaps she was the lucky one.” 

 

Vera looks at her curiously. “Your dad?” she asks cautiously, beginning to understand the meaning behind Joan’s words.

 

“Is dead.” Joan replies curtly before taking a sip of shiraz and returning her focus to a prawn on her plate. 

 

Vera watches her for a moment, expecting further explanation, but quickly realizes it won’t come. Recognizing another damaged soul, she lets the subject fall, all too keen to move onto something less depressing. Joan speaks first to change the subject. 

 

“This meal is lovely Vera, thank you.” The compliment is genuine and Vera blushes rose, unaccustomed to such compliments from a woman as refined as Joan. 

 

“Oh, I didn’t do much, just kind of threw stuff together.” She manages to respond, her voice a gentle whisper. 

 

“Perhaps,” Joan agrees casually, “but your presentation is quite appealing.” The smile that curves her lips is pure seduction and Vera feels the heat as it flushes across her chest. 

 

“There’s pavlova with fresh berries for dessert, if you’re interested.” Vera offers, not certain Joan even indulges in such sweets.

 

“Oh, now that is a rather tempting offer. Perhaps just a small bite.” Joan replies with a wink.

 

“Well, I’ll just clean these plates really quickly then.” She rises from the table and begins to collect the empty dishes, Joan rising also to help.

 

“You don’t have to do that Joan, you’re my guest. I was only going to put away the leftovers anyway, I’ll wash the dishes later.”

 

“Well I insist, Vera. You made the meal, so it’s only fair that I help with the clean up.” Vera is familiar with the tone and knows not to argue. 

 

“Alright, fine, but you really don’t have to do that.” Vera offers a final, weak rebuttal.

 

“Ahh, but I want to.” Joan replies simply with a coy smile, placing a hand on a firm bicep to give a gentle squeeze. Vera blushes and bites her bottom lip.  

 

Side by side they clean the dishes, Joan washing as Vera dries and puts away; their teamwork as efficient here as it is within the walls of Wentworth. 

 

Joan pauses in the washing as a few strands of silver black hair fall into her face, clinging to her moist bottom lip. She runs her cheek against her shoulder to try and brush it free, not wanting to touch wet hands to her face. Her struggle fails and Vera decides to make a move. With a cautionary gaze, she steps forward and offers assistance.

 

“Here, let me.” 

 

Joan turns to look at her, eyes wide with apprehension as she sees Vera approach. With a gentle smile, Vera lifts a slightly trembling hand and fingers the strand of hair, caressing it gently behind Joan’s ear. For a moment, they both freeze in place, eyes locked in an intense stare. 

 

Onyx eyes fall to full pink lips and her own lips part in anticipation. With Vera’s hand still cupped at her jaw, she leans down meeting her deputy half way to close the space between them. The kiss is simple, sweet and surprisingly tender. They part, staring widely into each other’s gaze. 

 

“I…” Vera begins, but falls to silence, not even certain of what she was going to say. 

 

Joan turns to face her fully, taking the towel from Vera’s limp grasp. Methodically, she dries her hands, depositing the towel on the counter by the sink. With growing desire she takes another step into Vera, forcing the smaller woman against the counter behind her.    

 

Strong elegant hands raise to bestow the gentlest of caresses to the smooth column of Vera’s neck before they settle beneath a curtain of chestnuts waves, pulling her into another kiss. Their mouths fall open in tandem and Vera initiates the first timid brush of her tongue into Joan’s mouth. Joan returns the caress and their kiss quickly deepens. 

 

Suddenly, Joan’s hands move to Vera’s waist, caressing briefly before strong arms envelope her, effortlessly lifting her onto the countertop. Vera gasps at the arousing display of strength and lifts a hand to run through the thick black tresses that tickle against her cheek. 

 

Their kiss grows deeper, more urgent as hands begin to wander across the body before them. Joan’s hands come to rest at Vera’s hips, squeezing gently as she steps between her parted thighs to further close the gap between them. Vera pulls her in close by the backs of her elbows, sighing as Joan’s lips part with hers to begin a track along her jaw up to her ear. 

 

A deep moan escapes her lips as Joan’s tongue traces the shell of her ear, before peeling off to lay a line of open mouthed kisses down Vera’s throat. Blue eyes close and her head falls back as she melts into the lascivious caress. 

 

Again Joan’s mouth disappears from her skin and she opens her eyes to identify the reason. Joan stares back at her, eyes darker than Vera’s ever seen them. She smiles shamelessly, hands firmly squeezing Vera’s narrow hips.

 

“Exquisite.” She husks before leaning in again to devour the full lips before her. Vera moans into the kiss and wraps her arms tightly around Joan’s neck as firm hands begin to glide up her thighs, lifting the hem of her dress as the move. 

 

A faint ringing suddenly pulls them from their lusty haze. Joan breaks the kiss, leaning her forehead heavily into Vera’s. She growls as the ringing continues, finally reaching into the pocket of her pants to retrieve her mobile. 

 

“Governor speaking.” She barks into the phone. She’s silent for a moment as she listens to the voice on the other end. Vera sits still, trying to slow down her heavy breathing and stay as quiet as possible.

 

“Alright, lock down the shower block until we can get her moved. I’ll be there in half an hour.” 

 

She hangs up the call and slips the phone back into her pocket before returning an apologetic gaze to Vera. 

 

“What’s happened?” Vera asks, knowing the call came from work.

 

“Rogers committed suicide. Hung herself from the wall in the shower block. Apparently Birdsworth found her.” 

 

“Oh God.” Vera murmurs as she pulls a hand to her mouth. Rogers wasn’t the most pleasant of inmates, but Vera always feels a small sadness with any loss of the women. 

 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Joan offers a genuine apology, placing another tender squeeze to Vera’s hips. 

 

“No, I understand….governor’s duty.” Vera offers with a coy smile.

 

“I, umm, it should only take me two hours, so….I could come back….if you’ll still be awake.” The timidness of the offer surprises Vera, but she finds it impossibly endearing. Cupping Joan’s cheeks with both hands, she flashes the most seductive smile she can muster. 

 

“I’m looking forward to it already.” 

 

Joan smirks and leans in for a final kiss, teeth grazing Vera’s bottom lip as she pulls away. 

 

“As am I.” 

With a final wink she smoothes her blouse and heads out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No lies: Not much plot, this chapter is shameless smut. ;-)

As soon as the front door closed, Vera’s nerves went wild. She wasn’t entirely sure how Christmas dinner had turned to a snogging session with her boss, and even less sure if it was the right thing to do. She knew she enjoyed it, despite it being a wholly new experience, but now, outside of the heat of the moment, insecurity begins to eat away at her excitement. A woman like Joan would never truly desire someone so simple as her; a worthless, disappointing, inexperienced woman. She’s almost totally convinced herself that Joan won’t even return. 

 

Then the doorbell rings. 

 

With a nervous sigh, she rises from the kitchen table and goes to the front door. Joan stands on the step, now dressed in her uniform, hair pulled into a low ponytail. She flashes a small smile as Vera looks up, a surprised expression on her face. 

 

“You seem quite surprised to see me. I thought you wanted me to return?” Joan replies coolly, but there’s a flash of uncertainty on her face. Vera shakes her head with an uneasy laugh and steps back, inviting Joan inside. 

 

“I’m sorry, I just...yes, come in.” Joan enters, undoing the bottom button of her jacket as Vera closes the door. 

 

“So, did everything go ok with the coroner’s assessment?” It’s a stupid question, but nerves prevent her from thinking of anything better to say.

 

“Yes, he agreed it was suicide. Normal for the holiday season.” They enter into the kitchen and an awkward silence descends.

 

“Well, umm, we could have the pavlova now, and perhaps a glass of champagne...if you’d still like some.” Vera leans against the counter, hands crossed nervously at her waist. 

 

“I didn’t come back for dessert.” Joan replies huskily. Vera swallows hard and looks up to smouldering eyes when Joan steps in closer. 

 

“I thought we might pick up where we left off.” She lifts a finger to trace along the line of Vera’s clavicle, eyes growing dark with desire. 

 

“Oh?” Her voice lilts at the end to form a question. 

 

“Unless, you’ve changed your mind. If so, I can leave and this night never happened.” Her voice is calm and steady, but the slight twitch of a nostril betrays her underlying insecurity; this is the one area where her confidence falters. 

 

“No, I umm, I thought  _ you  _ might have; maybe came to your senses after the wine wore off.” The last bit is mumbled as she lowers her gaze. 

 

Joan takes another step forward and places a crooked finger under Vera’s chin, lifting her head so they can make eye contact. 

 

“I don’t do casual, Vera. If I choose to be intimate with someone it’s because I take great interest in them. You have more to offer than you give yourself credit for.” 

 

For a moment, Vera stares back in awe, shocked by how Joan seemed to intuitively know what she was thinking and exactly what to say to put her at ease. Suddenly propelled by her reignited desire, she lifts onto her toes, wraps her arms around Joan’s neck and pulls her in for a passionate kiss. Joan hums at the sudden, welcome contact and wraps her arms around Vera’s small waist, pulling her flush against her body. They finally break apart panting, heavy with desire. 

 

“Should we...do you want to go upstairs?” Timid blue eyes meet Joan’s, a full bottom lip trapped between gleaming teeth.

 

“After you.” Joan steps back and extends a hand for Vera to take the lead. She follows her silently up the stairs into her bedroom. 

 

Vera sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, nervous hands fidgeting in her lap as she watches Joan approach from across the room.

 

“I...I’ve never done this before...with a woman.” Vera confesses as Joan stops at the chair in the corner and begins to unbutton her jacket. 

 

“Then you’ve been missing out.” She winks offering a coy smile; bravado masking the nervous flutter she feels in her chest.

 

Pulling off her jacket, she folds it neatly and lays it across the arm of the chair. She steps to the side of the bed as she reaches for her tie. Vera crawls up onto her knees and rises before her, small hands reaching up to rest atop Joan’s. 

 

“May I?” Actions grow bold with lust and Joan drops her hands, nodding silent consent. 

 

Trembling fingers work at the dark strip of material around Joan’s throat. Espresso eyes watch from above, nostrils flaring as her desire quickly builds. Finally, the knot comes loose and Vera slips it free, tossing it to the chair with the jacket. 

 

Joan leans forward and plants a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Vera’s neck, eliciting a soft sigh from the smaller woman. She continues kissing a trail along her smooth throat as her strong hands grasp Vera’s tiny waist before trailing down to squeeze her firm ass. She feels Vera pull the elastic from her hair, then run her hands through the thick mane, collecting it between her fingers at the back of her neck. It’s a surprisingly intimate and tender touch, that she feels herself melting beneath.

 

Once her lips reach the neckline of Vera’s dress, she draws her face away, sliding her hands down toned thighs to grasp the hem. She pulls up slowly and Vera lifts her arms to allow her to slip the garment over her head. 

 

Hungry eyes devour every inch of unveiled smooth olive skin and Vera shrinks slightly under the stare. She feels exposed, uncertain and inadequate, but the way Joan’s eyes consume her slowly ease the tension away. Under Joan’s lustful gaze, she finally understands what it means to feel sexy. Transfixed by the hollow of Vera’s throat, Joan places a sultry kiss at the tender indentation, drawing away just enough to let her breath tickle the smooth skin.

 

“So delicate.” She whispers as her lips continue a path along the defined ridge of Vera’s clavicle, to the top of her left shoulder. Licking gently as she kisses, she slips a hand under the bra strap, slipping it lightly from Vera’s shoulder and out of the way. Vera takes a shuddering breath as goosebumps break across her skin. 

 

Finding confidence through arousal, she reaches around and unhooks her bra, letting it slip down her arms and tossing it to the floor. Joan smiles against her shoulder and traces her tongue across her chest, down to a pale tawny nipple, licking it slowly, before drawing it into her mouth, her hand coming to caress the opposite breast. A breathy moan escapes Vera’s throat as her body pulses with pleasure. With a flick of her tongue and soft nibble, Joan breaks away, hands sliding into Vera’s hair and she places her lips against Vera’s trembling mouth. Their tongues roll and swirl in an erotic ballet and again they break apart breathless. 

 

“I want to see you too.” Vera whispers as she fingers the top button of Joan’s shirt. Joan’s mouth falls open, she blinks as uncertainty makes her hesitate. Vera clasps Joan’s cheeks gently, drawing her face up to Joan’s ear, as she runs a hand through her midnight mane, tucking it behind an alabaster shell. 

 

“Please.” She whispers, hot breath bathing Joan’s earlobe, before it’s trapped in a gentle bite between Vera’s teeth. She moans with the sudden touch that sends a strong pulse straight to her core and gives in to the hypnotic pull of her deputy. 

 

Elegant fingers move to the first button, trembling almost imperceptibly as they unfasten it, then descend to the next. Shirt now open, she unfastens the buttons at the cuff before removing it to reveal a simple black bra. Crisp white cotton is discarded to the pile on the chair. Pants are the next to go, and Vera stares in wonder as they glide down the long plane of her milky thighs to pool around her ankles on the floor. She hesitates for a moment before moving to the clasp of her bra. 

 

Hooks released, her breasts sink slightly lower from their weight. She draws the straps from her shoulders, the cups pulling free as she moves them past her elbows. She drops the garment to lay with her pants, inhaling deeply to press down the self-doubt. Vera’s mouth falls open as her eyes shift to ample breasts, so pale and perfect that they remind her of a Renaissance sculpture. 

 

“You are beautiful.” She reaches up to caress one, the small expanse of her hand not able to reach across its fullness. Desiring to feel and taste Joan’s skin, she leans forward and takes a pink nipple into her mouth, sucking gently. Joan strokes her fingers through soft waves of hair, pushing it away from Vera’s face to watch, as she arches into the warmth of Vera’s mouth. She shivers with a deep moan as Vera passes a firm stroke of her tongue across her rising nipple.

 

“Lie down, Vera.” She manages to purr on a shuddering breath.

 

As usual, she does as she is told, scooting across the bed until she’s lying in the middle on her side, head resting on the pillows. With a fluid grace, Joan lies down beside her, the swell of her generous hip eclipsing Vera’s; a snowcapped mountain overshadowing the foothills below it. Long fingers graze across the dip of Vera’s torso, running around to cup a tender hand along the bony column of her spine. With a gentle pull, Joan draws her in, until their breasts and hips collide. 

 

Their lips meld again, in a passionate duet as fingers play the same melody across supple skin. Joan rolls Vera onto her back and shifts her body to partially cover the younger woman beneath her. Vera gasps as Joan leans in and traces the valley between her breasts with her tongue, gliding off to her ribs with gentle nibbles. Shifting lower, she teases Vera’s stomach, rotating between kisses and bites, smiling into the quivering muscles that lay just beneath the skin. When she brings a hand to firmly cup between her legs, Vera moans loudly, choking it back with a firm bite to her bottom lip. Joan kisses her way back to Vera’s mouth, her hand beginning to rub in a circular motion against Vera’s slit. 

 

“Do you want me to keep going?” She asks as she watches Vera, just centimeters from her face.

 

“Please...yes.” Vera pants between shallow breaths. 

 

Joan smiles lasciviously and slips her hand beneath the waist of Vera’s underwear, dragging manicured nails through her mass of curls before brushing lightly across her outer folds. Vera twitches under the caress, biting her bottom lip. After a few light strokes, Joan presses her middle finger into Vera’s slit, the pad of it brushing against her clit as it slips between. Vera inhales sharply, hand grasping for purchase against the duvet, senses diving deep into the abyss of pleasure. Joan kisses her deeply as she sets a slow rhythm with her fingers, stroking vertically, then in tight circles against Vera’s clit. Vera’s moans increase as Joan continues her ministrations, watching with growing arousal as Vera’s face reflects her pleasure.

 

“More?” She quieres as Vera’s pants grow louder and more erratic.

 

“Yes...oh God, yes.” 

 

She makes a pass the length of Vera’s sex with two fingers, coating them liberally with her excitement. Pushing her index finger inside, she tests Vera’s capacity, then adds a second finger with a slow inward thrust. 

 

“Fuuuck.” Vera mewls through clenched teeth as she twists the duvet in her tight grip. 

 

Joan continues thrusting, in and out, as she slowly brings Vera close to orgasm. Her mouth is once again drawn to the pert breasts and she takes turns sucking each as her hand keeps up the steady pace. Vera writhes beneath her, alternating between panting and holding her breath as the pleasure begins to build to the breaking point deep within her. Suddenly, her walls begin to clench and the impending release seizes her senses.

 

“Oh Joan….I’m going to...” She cries in ecstasy, Joan swallowing the words through a fiery kiss. With a final deep thrust of her fingers, Vera cums, her body quaking violently as she breaks the kiss, gasping for air. Joan slows her hand, eventually slipping her fingers out as Vera’s walls release. She runs a hand through Vera’s hair, pulling her in close to kiss her tenderly as she rides the final pulses of her orgasm. A few moments later and her breathing finally regulates; she lifts her head to look into Joan’s smiling face.

 

“I never...it’s never felt that good before.” Vera confesses, a slightly surprised expression on her face. 

 

“Well, someone wasn’t doing it right then.” Joan replies with a slight chuckle. 

 

“Would you like...can I do that for you?” The shyness in her voice is incredibly endearing.

 

“You don’t have to. I understand if you’re not ready.” She runs a hand down Vera’s back, rubbing gently.

 

“I am...I want to.” Vera replies eagerly, raising up to rest on her elbow. 

 

Joan watches, but doesn’t speak or pull away, suddenly feeling the butterflies resume their ballet in her stomach. Taking silence as her consent to proceed, Vera leans forward and kisses her, biting her bottom lip as she pulls away. She shifts slightly lower, burying her face against Joan’s neck, licking and sucking lightly at the velvety skin. Joan rolls onto her back, giving Vera better access. Vera presses her kisses southward, moving off to lick and suck each breast before moving down Joan’s soft stomach to her naval. She licks slowly to a curvaceous hip and Joan twitches under the caress. 

 

“That tickles,” she husks, as she pulls Vera back towards her breast. Vera returns to the succulent orb, circling the rosy bud before biting gently.

 

A trembling hand moves to the waist of Joan’s underwear, and timidly slips inside. They gasp in unison as Vera’s fingers make contact with the top of Joan’s slit, gloriously wet from her arousal. Vera strokes the length of it before Joan’s hand comes to rest above hers, guiding her quickly between her lavish folds. Joan guides her directly to her clit, moving Vera’s fingers in tight circles around the stiff bud.

 

“Mmm, yes...just like that. I won’t take much.” She moans deeply as Vera increases the pressure, and she releases Vera’s hand to knead her own left breast.  

 

Vera watches in awe as Joan’s eyes flutter shut, consumed by the euphoria building within. For once, her expression clearly reflects her feelings and Vera is captivated by her unbridled beauty. She continues stroking firmly, slowly increasing the speed as she feels Joan begin to gyrate toward her touch. 

 

As Joan’s moaning reaches the pinnacle, Vera leans in and deposits a sensual kiss just between her breasts. Joan lifts up onto her elbow, running a hand through Vera’s hair to pull her head to her face. She kisses her deeply, tongue thrusting wilding against Vera’s, then suddenly pulls away with a gasp. 

 

Her body trembles and she pulls Vera to her breast as she teeters on the cusp of orgasm. 

 

“Veraaaa,” spilling from her quivering lips as she plummets to her long awaited release.


End file.
